


Interlude: Ours Is A Shadowed Past

by mirroredinkparadox



Series: Ours Is A Shadowed Past [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda
Genre: Alternate History, Gen, battle spam, linking interlude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-14 00:06:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirroredinkparadox/pseuds/mirroredinkparadox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dark and Link try to piece together the loose ends of their adventure in ID, restoring memories they didn't know were lost. Post OoT</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shimmering

Link looked around, puzzled. He was clearly in the desert – but he'd gone to sleep in Lon Lon Ranch, where he, Dark, Nyche, and Navi had gone to lick their wounds, so to speak, before Zelda did – whatever she planned on doing. He snorted and shrugged, walking forward.

"Mirani? Nabooru? Anyone?" He heard horses and headed for the archery range, humming a snippet of Saria's Song, feeling lighter than when he'd gone to bed – lighter, happier, healthier.

"I should hope so," came a dry tone from behind him. He started and turned, unwary. Strife snorted and whinnied a greeting, moving forward to lip his tunic. He trailed his fingers through the blood red mane, eyes lifting to the speaker.

"Ganondorf." The King of the Gerudo shrugged, looking over his shoulder at one of the posts at the other end of the range. He looked like he had when he'd first brought Link to the Fortress – relaxed, confident – sane. Link snorted and giggled, burying his face in Strife's mane in an attempt to contain his mirth. The Gerudo offered him an unseen, faint smile, leaning against the rock wall.

"Something funny, Link?"

"Nothing, Ganondorf – nothing that's really relevant." Because he was talking to him, and he was supposedly bound in the Void.

"We're in the Void – in a sense. Unumbra's realm exists in that of dreams as well; what better way to apologise while serving penance in a sort of hell?" The Hylian sobered and straightened, moving around Strife to stand face to face with the other man. The desert wind wasn't here, and the eerie silence lay heavy, like paradoxically audible dust over the dream realm.

"Apologise for what, Ganondorf?" The Gerudo man shook his head, eyes brightening with anger.

"Do not dishonor me and pretend – nay, disregard – my stupidity and cruelty."

"You were controlled by Ganon."

"We are one and the same!" snapped Ganondorf, anger colouring his face and voice. He fell silent, jaw clenched. Link lowered his eyes.

"I don't believe that," he said finally, voice soft.

"Ganon is not capable of love, of compassion. He is not capable of seeing the wrongs of his actions and seeking to make them right." He lifted his head, meeting Ganondorf's amber eyes squarely.

"He is no man of honor, and he is certainly not _you_." The Hero of Time pressed a hand to the Gerudo king's jaw, forcing him to truly look him in the eyes.

"He could not have loved me – ours is a relationship forged of hate, and it cannot be changed." Ganondorf pulled away, anger fading.

"Link, I was wrong to believe I could control it – and I apologise for being foolish enough to drag you into this." He closed his eyes, pain flitting across his face.

"I am paying for my mistakes, without a doubt. I was given a chance others were not and squandered it. It is my lot in life, it seems, to fail again and again to a force stronger than I." His eyelids fluttered, and he sighed, expression relaxing some.

"Love is a double-edged sword, but not, I think, a cold one. It is nothing I would not want to live by." He opened his eyes and smiled weakly at the Hero.

"I did – do – love you, Link. I am asking only for your forgiveness, but nothing more. I am not without regret." Link laughed through gathering tears, leaning up to kiss the man – a chaste press of the lips unlike any of their previous, often furious, kisses. It spoke of regret and forgiveness, and of remembrance; Link would not forgot Ganondorf as he'd been with this turn of their unending wheel of Fate, and he would not forget to love as he had learned to with this war. Ganondorf retreated first, pulling away a mere breath.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"I know," replied the hero, eyes downcast.

"Our Fate is what we make of it, Ganondorf – this is not the end." The Gerudo shook his head.

"People don't change."

"You're right," Link sighed, turning away.

"We haven't changed – we're always changing. Don't give up hope!" The taller man laughed bitterly, eyes rising to the washed out sky.

"There is no hope in the desert."

"But there is hope in humankind – in all races!" snapped Link in exasperation.

"You've given up before the fight's even begun! You're letting it win, giving it all the power it needs!" The Gerudo man didn't answer, eyes still locked on the pale sky. Link threw up his hands and stalked off, not sure where he was going but too frustrated to stay here. If the Gerudo man followed or simply made himself appear in the same area, it wasn't clear.

"Link, I'm sorry – I've lived with this all my life, almost all my _lives-_ "

"Stop _apologising!_ Just – just stop! This isn't your fault-"

"I-"

" _Stop it._ " Ganondorf fell silent at the Hylian's agonized tone. The blonde tugged his earring angrily, biting his lip.

"We didn't have any control over these events – but we do _now._ Who's to say we have to follow Fate to the letter? Who says Fate gives us no choice? We _make_ Fate, as we do history, every day!" He heaved a sigh, suddenly exhausted.

"Maybe I am naïve to believe such things, but I refuse to stand aside and allow others to dictate my life. You can fight this, Ganondorf – you have the Goddess of Power on your side! Don't pretend that Zelda and I cannot and will not help you; we are as bound to you as the Triforce is to us, and as we all are to the Goddesses." He folded his arms, looking down.

"Give yourself a chance..." The Gerudo stepped forward, hesitant, then pulled back.

"Link...thank you." The Hylian met his eyes, and they shared in silence the understanding they'd lost in life.

"Thank you..."

* * *

Link woke instantly, heart racing as cool night air and Malon's singing soothed frayed nerves and reminded him where he was.

Lon Lon Ranch, three days after that final, harrowing battle, the night that, amidst storm and shadow, Fate was rewritten in the image its heroes desired – or so they thought. It seemed to Link, despite all his words to the contrary, that Fate would do as it pleased, thank you very much. Unumbra had given them a chance to have a say, though, and perhaps now things would change – slowly, but surely.

"Link?" He turned a little at the muffled, sleep-hazy voice, lips tilting up in a small smile.

"Yeah, Dark?"

"Why're you 'wake? Go t'sleep...too early..." He chuckled softly at the disgruntled tone and settled back into the bed, yawning some.

"Good night, Dark."

"Mmm..."

* * *

Morning came upon them incandescent and joyful – three days of steadily decreasing rain had ended, and rainbows littered the land of Hyrule in nature's own celebration of Light's triumph. Seated behind the stables, Nabooru saw little of it.

She mulled over the fate of her people; Ganondorf's rule, once just, then mad, then hideously cruel, had left them drained and weakened. Many had died in the catalyst battle; few had survived to witness Link and Dark's heroism. Her own place as leader was challenged; she was the Sage of Spirit, bound to the Spirit Temple, and unable to see to daily life. Mirani did much of that, but she was currently pregnant – courtesy of a Kakariko man who had stumbled into the Fortress some days before Ganondorf and Link had made their way there. She was still ornery as ever, but nevertheless had another life to deal with beyond her own – she could not lead the Gerudo women alone. Most of the other women were much younger than Mirani and Nabooru – they were the only ones of Ganondorf's age group to survive, and all the others were from age groups after their own. Few were acceptable, even endurable, choices.

"Nabooru?" The woman looked up, teeth flashing in a brilliant smile as Nyche levered herself down beside her. Absently, she pushed her blonde braids aside to see the mark on the side of her neck; the three Spiritual Stones, etched and inked with magic and blood, no more. The mark would stay with her for life, branding her a Sage's vassal – Ruto's, specifically, though her allegiances lay with Nabooru and Impa as well.

"Mourning or worrying?"

"A little of both, I suppose," quipped the Gerudo Sage, eyes fluttering closed as she leaned her head against the wooden wall of the stable.

"Ganondorf was never a very affectionate man, but we were, at least, siblings in heart – it hurts to have lost him so many times, so completely, in so short a span of time. And our people...we are thieves, vagabonds, marauders – we have no place in this peace!" The woman's eyes opened, and she met Nyche's silver-purple ones squarely.

"I do not know what I am to do. The Temples are generally safe; the Kokiri Forest serves as a barrier, and the location alone allows Saria the perfect place to protect it. Death Mountain is, for all who are not stubborn Chosen Ones, impassable and forbidding; an active volcano, few but the Gorons can even enter, and so Darunia is too in the perfect defensible position. Lake Hylia is too deep and too treacherous, what with the Tektites and so on, to enter the Water Temple, and the Zoras are naturally very suspicious. The village of Kakariko is cause for concern, at first, but the dead will not have their resting place disturbed – Impa is a one woman army as well, and so she too is completely safe. The Spirit Temple is inaccessible without Link, now – I have nothing to worry about. But I cannot leave!" She rose abruptly, fuming.

"I cannot lead my people, and so cannot but fear for them." Nyche sighed, rising and wrapping her arms around the Gerudo woman's waist.

"Nabooru, you aren't alone; give Mirani a chance, she can train others to do what she would normally do. I can help, if Ruto does not require me in the temple – she likely will not." Nabooru stared at her, fury melting into affection for the woman in front of her. She leaned forward and kissed her slowly, gently, savoring the sun-warmed scent of her freshly washed hair and her naturally rainy scent.

"I love you," she murmured against the other woman's lips, fingers curling into her hair.

"I love you too..." They stood for a moment, foreheads resting together, free hands clasped together, foolish smiles lingering on world weary faces.

"Nyche, Nabooru! Have you seen Dark?" They both turned as Link stumbled toward them, tripping over a stone and flipping back to his feet with skill only a Chosen One generally had to utilize.

"Augh. Have you?" The two women shared a look and shook their heads. He groaned.

"Where _is_ he? He left early this morning, took Strife, and all of the Medallions." Nabooru blinked, puzzled.

"The Medallions? They have no power now – we used it all to seal the Beast." Link shook his head.

"I don't know either. Tell Saria I'll meet her and the others later tonight – I need to find Dark."

* * *

Dark swung off the Gerudo king's horse, pausing to run his fingers through the dark mane.

"Thank you, Strife – I know I was far from friendly with your master." The horse snorted, tossing his head defiantly. He chuckled and tied him to the fence post, trudging up the muddy path to the opening to the Royal Crypt.

"Well, Bongo Bongo – anything to say now?" he murmured, not expecting an answer but listening anyway. Something was speaking in the shadows – the dead, he was certain, from the Temple and the graveyard itself.

 _We...are not...alone... Beneath the Royal resting place...there is...another voice. A song...a voice of one shadow...The Chosen...of the Goddesses may enter...and no other..._ He looked around, puzzled, then down at the single, oddly square hole in the ground.

"Well then..." He stepped forward and dropped into the darkness below.

He had taken but a few steps when a familiar chiming brought him to a halt.

"Oh, honestly-"

"I'm sorry, Dark!" cried Navi, bobbing rapidly.

"I was worried! You seemed so pensive of late, I wished to be sure you were well-"

"And I _am_ ," Dark hastened to assure her, slightly ashamed that he hadn't noticed the fairy's concern.

"I'm fine. I just – I need to know what Bongo Bongo meant." The fairy chimed in question, and he shrugged.

"I'm not sure." Navi circled him, eyeing the narrow corridor.

"This is where Link and I learned the Sun's Song. There are bats and Redeads ahead – but nothing else." Dark nodded slowly, uncertain. Something niggled in the back of his mind – yet another old memory, but this one far older than the others, though perhaps not so old as that the Unem had shown him. A tall, blonde man leading a child – a mere seven summers, or perhaps eight – through the old graveyard, to a crumbling crypt, the stone long since worn to instability and decay by age and weather. Into the crypt, and down a hall – this hall – into the chamber, but he did not go straight up the steps. He sought another opening – a door to the right, all but melted into the rock.

"This way," he murmured, moving slowly, Navi drifting after him. He disregarded the bats unless they came near him, ducking and swatting them aside as he crossed the small distance. He trailed his fingers over the stone, grimacing at the damp, pitted surface, slimy in some places. And here! Here it was, paler stone, darkened with age but nevertheless smooth and shiny, as opposed to the rough, corroded rock of the rest of the tomb. He pressed it, wincing as the door ground open, and another ramp led further into the earth.

"Clever..." He passed through the door, looking questioningly at Navi. The fairy read his expression accurately and increased the light of her halo, lighting in Dark's hand. The shadow raised the fairy into the air, using her as a lamp as he descended. She sat docilely, examining the area with confusion.

"This is nothing like the tomb; the stone is...different, odd."

"Gerudian granite," provided Dark, pausing.

"The same as what the Temple of Time is made of; here and here, they have marks. The Sheikah and the Gerudo both worked here, clearly. The Gorons would have transported much of it; the Zoras would have provided water power. The Hylians, of course, would have done the bulk of the work. These," he touched marks unfamiliar to both of them, "must be from ancient people past. I do not recognise any of them. However, this tomb was clearly built much earlier than either of us thought, or at least this chamber was." They continued to descend, the ramp spiraling deeper into the earth, until they entered a large, circular chamber. Dark was about to ask Navi to again brighten her halo, when fairies floated from the walls, circling the room and forming a chain of light around its circumference. He stared at the chamber, baffled.

* * *

A single pillar rose from a well in the earth; placed upon it was a bowl, also of stone. Statues surrounded the room, each an equal distance from the next, eyes locked on the bowl. Braziers radiated out from the pillar, and several, smaller pillars, also an equal distance from one another, surrounding the taller pillar, each one etched with one of the Medallion sigils. He nodded once, taking it all in.

"Navi, see if there are any plaques – instructions and so on. I'll set the Medallions." The two split up – Dark placed each Medallion on its respective pillar as Navi zigzagged back and forth across the room.

"Dark, here! It's – it's-" Dark joined her and examined the inscription that had brought a stutter to Navi's bright, smooth voice.

The words were jagged and crusted with old blood; clawed into the stone with fingernails, likely etched there in someone's – or something's – last moments. The language was that of the Sheikah, and little changed from what he recalled.

 _'With the Voice of a God, intent without fear, and a friend of great loyalty, speak to the Medallions and sacrifice yourself to the moon-blessed waters.'_ Dark wrinkled his nose.

"Well – intent isn't a problem, and you certainly are a friend of great loyalty – but the Voice of a God? Do they mean...a prayer?" He blinked.

"No, a prayer is your voice to the Goddesses...then what..." He stared pensively into space for a moment, only to resurface at Navi's exasperated sigh.

"Dark, Farore's Voice! That must be it!" The shadow flushed in surprise, then irritation at his own ability to overlook the obvious.

"Fine," he grumbled, pulling the delicate tube from under his tunic, "but what song?" The two mulled in silence some more, before Dark realised he still had the Medallion of Light in his hands. Muttering about old age and absent-mindedness, he placed it on the final pillar, about to again broach the question to Navi, when, with an audible click, the Medallions each sank into their pillars, and each pillar rose to tower over the central one, splitting open like flowers blooming with a crack of thunder. Fairy and shadow both started and even stumbled back at the sound, gaping as the pillar segments disintegrated, leaving only seven statues holding the Medallions aloft, eyes aglow.

"Speak your will, shadow born hero – let us see your heart's intention," the statues intoned in unison. Navi circled him, wings fluttering limply.

"Well – what now?" They both looked at the inscription, then at the statues.

"..." The shadow sighed, and approached one of the statues – the one bearing the Light Medallion and a scroll. The statue was androgynous in face and form, the clothing styles ancient, and the language on the scroll arcane. At its feet was an ornate hourglass, a partially sheathed sword, and scales. Slowly, grating against the stone on which it stood, it turned to him, rotating until they were essentially eye to eye, though the statue was several feet taller than Dark. He met the bright, alien eyes – dead lights swirled furiously in the overbright depths, and he fought the urge to retch at the swirling, sickening motions.

"What would you have me do?" The statue (predictably) did not blink; the blank gaze seemed no longer to be merely that, blank, but studious, questioning. The shadow gritted his teeth.

"Damn it, just-"

"Voice the songs that transcend distance, and one that transcends time. A song that soothes a royal heart, and a song of friendship thought lost." The stone lids ground closed, and the inner luminescence of the statue faded, leaving a dark stone husk. The Medallion clattered free, sinking into the stone floor and embedding itself there. Dark stared at the statue in disgust, finally recognising them for what they were – Sages.

"Damn cryptic _irritating_ Sages..." He continued to rant as he circled the room, pacing in frustration.

"Intent is understandable – I can even see why we need Farore's Voice – but why are _you_ here, Navi?"

"...Moral support?" she replied dryly, flitting around the bowl.

"Dark, the songs that transcend distance are the warp melodies – a song that soothes a royal heart is likely Zelda's Lullaby. A song that transcends time...that's a little strange, but try the Song of Time. However, a song of friendship thought lost is stumping me. Saria's Song, perhaps." Dark stared at her, mind racing through the songs and the stories that Link and Navi had told him about each one. Saria's Song fit the bill – but his instincts told him otherwise. He stared at the bobbing fairy for a moment, noting the soft patter of rain was audible even here – and then it hit him.

They'd met the – in Dark's opinion – crazy windmill operator in Kakariko sometime before entering the Shadow Temple. His cries of Ocarina foul play had worn on Dark, and he'd only recently recalled it, and asked Link about it. Apparently, through some thoroughly convoluted time twisting, Link had gained access to a song generally of little use – the Song of Storms. He had briefly wondered if perhaps he'd been able to learn it because he'd gone to Ganondorf's side, abandoning Hyrule and obliterating their faith in their few heroes. He'd all but lamented it, and only sleep had driven the worries from his mind.

"The Song of Storms..." It was the one song Dark could not use – for some reason, it was essentially incompatible with Farore's Voice.

"What, Dark?"

"It's the Song of Storms – that's what they mean, a friendship thought lost. They mean Link's doubts about his choices, how they might have affected the people of Hyrule – how he might have lost their faith." He stared blankly at the statues, then lifted the fluted tube to his lips, activating it with a breath and a prayer. Barely ruffling the air, he all but whispered the Prelude of Light, voice breathy and soft. With each progressive song he grew louder and stronger; with the Requiem of Spirit, the final spell settled and the statues spoke again as one.

"Friend of great loyalty and great bond, heed us and stand in our light." With these words, rays of light corresponding with each Medallions hue spilled from the hands of the statues, pooling in the center of the room around the central pillar. Navi fluttered forward hesitantly, hovering above the bowl.

"Dark? What now-"

"Hero. With the song of friendship thought lost, you have not enough faith to restore us and your memory. So great a request requires great power – and great sacrifice." The statues spoke in unison once more when the Sage of Darkness finally fell silent.

"Give us the truest desire of your heart, and time will right itself. A great power sleeps in the darkness of your heart and it will be known. Blood must be had and fear dissolved. Return with the sun's descent and know then what you have wondered before now." Dark's fingers clenched spasmodically as he stared at the statues, voice stuttering sharply.

"T-truest desire-"

"Go now." The statues' eyes went dark, and the air filled with growls of stone shifting against stone.

"Dark! The room's collapsing!"


	2. Shadowed Glory

Link barely reigned Epona in as he threw himself from the saddle, running up the steps to Kakariko, taking them two at a time. He didn't even spare the villagers a nod as he hurtled into the graveyard, skidding in the dirt and pitching forward, almost braining himself on a headstone he'd managed to overlook in the fading light of the fiery sunset.

" _Farore_ ," he hissed, straightening abruptly and stumbling forward again, jumping the low fence and making his way up to the royal crypt. He'd found Strife in the graveyard – well, right outside, but it did not lessen the surprise. Epona didn't like being around many people, and thus he kept her out of Kakariko. The one time he'd gotten her inside, she'd panicked and fled, almost breaking her leg in the process. Malon had been...less than pleased. Link winced at the memory and continued to drag himself forward, wincing as a multitude of scrapes and bruises, half-healed, twinged and burned with the exertion. He was far from recovered – he might never recover fully, but that was irrelevant in the face of Dark's mysterious disappearance. Tracking him had been difficult; the Medallions had not enough magical charge to be tracked by their relative Sages, and Dark could easily conceal himself from them. Navi's disappearance made it even more difficult – Link assumed she'd gone with Dark, whether he'd known or not, and therefore could not be of use to _him_. Grumbling, he dropped into the hole with only a little hesitance, landing hard and pausing for a long moment to recover from the jarring descent. He'd barely made a move to enter the rest of the tomb when the walls began to growl and moan, the floor buckling and rolling, copious amounts of dust and debris raining from the ceiling.

"Dark! The room's collapsing!" And amidst it all, Navi's high bell tones could still pierce the cacophony.

"Dark! Navi! Where are you!" Link's shout was almost drowned out by a thunderous crack; a blast of dust and debris erupted from the right side of the room, and from it emerged his shadow and their mutual fairy partner.

"Dark!" The blonde dredged up what little energy he retained and scrambled down the ramp, engulfing the dumbstruck shadow in a bone-crushing hug.

"You idiots! The tomb is _collapsing_. We have to leave!"

"Link?" Dark ignored Navi's shriek to stare, baffled, at the blonde in front of him. He wasn't wearing his tunic or hat; the loose brown pants weren't even his, if the makeshift rope belt cinching it was anything to go on. Only his shirt and boots looked even relatively familiar, exempting the shield and sword he also wore – and why?

"Link-"

" _Damn_ it, Farore, Din, and Nayru! _Go_!" They both started and turned to the flaring fairy, who had brightened considerably. Finally recognising the danger, they both moved back up the ramp, when Link yanked Dark to a halt, turning completely.

"Navi – _Navi!_ " Navi's scream didn't even echo as the ceiling caved, sealing the crypt. A flash of silver light sparked from the center of the cave-in, and then all was silent save for the two men's breathing.

"N-Navi? Navi?" Link's voice cracked as he inched forward, tears pricking his eyes.

" _Navi!_ " Dark swallowed hard at the anguished tone, heart pounding furiously. This was his fault – he'd allowed Navi to come with him, he'd lingered those seconds too long-

"L-Link? Dark? I-I'm-"

"Navi!" The fairy's dry chuckle was lower than any sound Dark had ever heard from her before.

"Yes, Link, I'm Navi. I'm okay, both of you – but there's magic sealing me here. It's the Sages, I can feel it. I think...I think I wasn't supposed to try to leave. Dark, you have to bring your heart's truest desire here to finish the ritual."

"Navi, the entire tomb's blocked off."

"There might be another way," Link managed weakly, still shaken by the chance that they'd lost Navi.

"I've never tried to find one, but if we look..." Dark nodded at Link's suggestion, directing his comment at the rock.

"Navi, we're going to try to find another entrance. Just..."

"Hang here?" He nodded, knowing full well she couldn't see him.

"We'll be back."

* * *

Link suggested they start at the castle to look for clues; the ruins were still being cleared away by the Gorons and some few Hylians – the carpenters among them – but Link clearly recalled more, older ruins miles to the north of them. They took Strife and Epona, heading into the north where few went anymore – even the Hylians had forgotten about the old capital. They eventually found themselves surrounded by weathered ruins that were, surprisingly, mostly intact; only a few pillars and defaced statues even looked ruined. The rest of the palace was merely abandoned. They crossed the long-dried up moat, the two horses' hooves clattering dully against the ancient stone. Everywhere, images of the Triforce, the mark of the Royal family, and statues, paintings, and even crumbling hangings of the Goddesses could be seen, even as they rode into what Dark thought was the castle proper. He eventually pulled to a halt, dismounting slowly.

"We should leave Strife and Epona outside; should something happen, they'll know to leave." Link nodded, dismounting as well and gently patting Epona's flank, signaling her to leave the castle. She neighed once and cantered out, followed by the ever-stoic stallion. Link walked slowly up to the staircases spiraling around twin pillars, leading up to another floor. Two more staircases shot straight past these, up to yet another floor.

"I'll...take the third floor. You take the second?" He looked over his shoulder at Dark, who nodded stiffly, eyes locked on the second floor landing. The blonde sighed and shrugged, trotting up the leftmost staircase without another word. Dark lingered longer, eyes flitting around the enormous room.

* * *

Double doors seemed to lead away from this main room; two more doors, one on either side of the room, led into hallways – the left was almost completely rotted away and the right was slightly ajar. He shrugged, striding up the foremost spiral staircase and leaping onto the landing over a small gap between the stairs and the landing, padding across the ancient, somehow still intact carpet to the enormous double doors. He pushed one open with one finger, a jolt going through him; remembrance, recognition. He let his hand dropped as the enormous door creaked open, the motion solemn. He stepped forward slowly, eyes scanning the new room.

It was undeniably the throne room; a small set of wide steps led up to the dais where three thrones sat; each descending in size, with the smallest near the base of the dais and the two larger ones settled adjacent to one another at the top and last step, respectively. Banners and standards still lined the walls; the throne room was not unlike the one in the new – now demolished – castle, with a long carpet in faded royal blue over stone floors, edged with dusty gold. Suits of armour, echoing the ages of war in Hyrule, were placed between each standard. Above the throne, the Royal Crest – the Triforce nestled in the swoop of a bird's wings – was detailed in gold plated stone, set into the wall itself. Here and there the Hylian Crest could also be found, faded, visible whispers of a regal past. Around the enormous Royal Crest above the thrones, ascending to the heavens, were the Golden Goddesses; Din at the top, Farore to the right, and Nayru to the left, only recognisable by the Spiritual Stone marks on their foreheads. Dark stared at them, noting absently that their upturned faces were akin to the statues he'd seen in the crypt – alien, nothing like the faces of the Goddesses they'd met in the shared dream space they'd encountered in the Shadow Temple.

 _Link...remember this well_... Dark started and whipped around, sword unsheathed in a moment. No one was in sight, but he'd heard them clearly – male voices, speaking in unison.

"Link?" He lowered his sword, padding back toward the door, when he heard it again.

 _Honor our memory, but do not grieve us..._ He turned again, skin prickling, breath coming fast.

"Link?" he repeated, red eyes darting around the room. The sound of the door snicking shut, unusually loud and crisp despite their age, snapped his attention to the front of the room.

His eyes widened fractionally.

Flanking the door were two Iron Knuckles, each clad in dull silver armour, bearing the Hylian Crest on each shoulder and wielding enormous double-headed axes. Clanking alerted him to the arrival of two more from either side of the room, these in black armour with the Hylian Crest on each shoulder, also wielding axes. Finally, a door behind the throne ground open and an even larger Iron Knuckle marched out, wearing gold washed armour bearing the Royal Crest across the chest plate and wielding two swords that he imagined would normally require two hands to wield. They closed in around him, stonily silent. Dark swallowed and straightened, eyes locking onto the nearest target, light catching on the Mirror Shield and washing over the approaching golem.

"Din tell me why I chose to aid Link again?" The axe whistled past his head; he leapt to the side and rolled under the axe strike from the other Knuckle, managing to slam him shield into its back and drive his sword through the plates of armour.

* * *

Sparks flew as he barely scratched it, but chance led the blade into a thin gap between plates and he thrust forward, driving the blade into the thing's armpit. It bellowed and swung an armour plated fist into his face, crushing several bones in his jaw. He gasped and stumbled back, taking another hit from the butt of an axe handle into the stomach. He slammed into the wall and slid to the ground, groping for his sword and finding himself unable to find it.

Hating that he seemed to have to rely on the Gerudo king's sword again and again, he drew the dragon sword and launched himself forward, battering at the foremost Knuckle again, finally slicing its head neatly from its shoulders with an overpowered slice he'd been certain would miss. The golem crumbled and dissolved into blue flames as its head whistled through the air and dissolved before hitting the ground, but Dark had no time to relish in the victory, cornered by the second gray golem.

* * *

He ducked the first attack and blocked the second, jerking the axe back in a motion that would force the Iron Knuckle to let go; the axe flew from iron-clad fingers, embedding itself in the floor some feet away while Dark followed up the disarming with a shield bash to the face and several stabs to the body. He pried plate after plate of ornate armour away from the powerful form, hacking away at each bared portion of the Knuckle's body, when he finally drove it to its knees and delivered the final blow, watching it go up in blue flame.

He turned and received a hard blow to the solar plexus, again flying through the air and mentally wondering why he didn't just grow wings, he was never on the ground anyway. He crashed into a suit of armour – what he had apparently mistaken the Iron Knuckles for – and collapsed to the ground, breathing hard as he felt something sharp digging into his side.

 _Shit. I broke a bottle._ One of the Goddesses – or perhaps Unumbra – was smiling on him, because cool magic washed through him and he saw a fairy disappear into thin air with a bell-like laugh as his wounds healed. He dragged himself to his feet, readjusting his sweaty grip on the hilt of the dragon sword and on the strap of the shield. The Knuckles were tromping forward, slow and inescapable. He flexed the fingers around the snarling dragon hilt and took in his surroundings one more time.

* * *

It was time to stop fighting like Link; he kept _doing_ that. He mentally facepalmed, sheathed the dragon sword, and summoned the Master Sword's shadowy doppelganger, spinning it lightly.

 _One..._ The Iron Knuckles continued to advance, preparing their strike as one.

 _Two..._ He stopped spinning it and began to heft it, spotting a place on the wall behind the throne.

 _Three!_ He hurled the sword, ducking the three strikes that all went wildly astray with the distraction, slamming his shield into the knees of the two black Knuckles and sending them stumbling back into the gold one. He darted around them, freeing the dragon sword in the process and prying several plates of armour away from the two black Knuckles before running to the dais, skidding to a halt a few feet away. The Knuckles struggled to right themselves, in which time they became victim to several bombs hurled from afar. He managed to destroy one there, but finally the remaining two struggled free and charged him as one. The gold Knuckle was almost untouched; the black one was missing almost half of its armour. He smirked, beckoning as he backed up, preparing to move for the final blow.

He wasn't expecting the gold Knuckle to throw his sword, but it worked out well; he leapt up onto the largest throne and used the upward momentum to kick off the wall behind it, sailing over the Knuckles' heads and delivering a hard blow to the back the black Knuckle's head, driving it to the ground and killing it in one strike. He landed lightly and whipped around; catching the two blades on the Mirror Shield, he kicked forward, throwing it off balance and sliding between its legs, rolling onto his knees and stabbing up into its back. The Knuckle roared, stumbling forward and falling to one knee, but still swinging wildly. Dark rose to his feet and drove his sword with a two-handed blow into its head, panting as it shrieked and writhed, dissolving into white-blue flame. He stepped back, sheathing the sword with unnecessary flair, before tossing his hair out of his eyes and turning on his heel to face the throne.

"Overzealous security much? Honestly." He strode to the throne and into the room behind it, trailing his fingers over the altar he found inside. He was confused by what he saw there. The idols were not all Hylian; many of them had strong Gerudian influences, if not coming from the Gerudo originally. He trailed his fingers over the incense burners, long cold and dead. Dark sighed, thoughts swirling. This placed seemed familiar – but not in the sense that he remember it from residual memories tied to Link, as was the case with most other things. He remembered this the way he remembered the door in the crypt; like he'd lived it. Muttering, he strode out of the room, when he heard something familiar.

A song – a song made up of chiming...fairies... He broke into a jog, rounding the throne room and staring in awe as he came to an enormous natural stone cavern, cut out of the mountain side and connected to the throne room by a tunnel hidden behind a particularly large suit of armour. He stared at the all too familiar pool and felt his face split into a grin. If anyone would know where to find another entrance to the crypt, it would be a Great Fairy.

* * *

Link padded through the halls, bored out of his skull. He'd come onto the third floor landing and found three doors. The two on either side of the landing had led into halls that led to rooms – so many rooms, most of them barely furnished anymore. He'd finally entered the middle door – double doors, actually – after getting turned around first and then finding a handy map, which made his blood run cold.

You didn't find maps in places like this unless you were facing something like, oh, _a giant monster bent on your destruction._ Link huffed. He'd beaten Ganon – at the cost of losing Ganondorf, after finally learning to love – and saved Hyrule, but he had to do _another_ dungeon? Muttering, he entered the first door and found an enormous library, with many of the texts still in place. Fascinated, he wander around, picking up a book on a table gingerly. To his surprise, it didn't disintegrate at his touch, but the language was archaic, at best, and the text was ornate. With a sigh, he closed it gently and let it fall to the table with a dusty thump. He continued to weave through the library, picking up a key in the process. He turned it in his hands, one eyebrow raised. It wasn't like any of the other functional silver keys he'd picked up before. Those had two teeth and no embellishment. This more resembled the boss keys, only it was smaller, silver, not horned, and had a purple gem etched with the Royal Crest set in the handle. He pocketed it and left the library, weaving through the shelves until he reached the door and continued down the hall.

Near the end of the hall, he found three doors; two were locked, one was not. He entered the unlocked room first, finding a bedroom. He examined it, half wary and half embarrassed, though he couldn't say why. He circled the room once, absently picking up what few items were here and there, finally pausing to really take it in, as a thought grew in his mind.

While it appeared two people had shared this room, none of the items hinted at a woman being one of the two. He'd assumed this was the bedroom of the king and queen of who knew how many centuries past, but nothing pointed to the existence of a queen. In fact, if he really thought about it, he might even go so far as to say two _men_ shared this room. Perturbed, he turned and began to leave when something caught his eyes. He turned back and padded to a small altar in the corner of the room, fingers skimming over it until he found a ring on a chain. He lifted it to the filmy light streaming through the rotting drapes, watching it twist on the chain. It was a simple gold band, etched with the Gerudo sigil and the Hylian Crest, separated – or perhaps connected – by the Triforce between them. Link let the chain and the ring pool into his palm, staring at it in bemusement and fascination. The cool metal felt...familiar. He snorted. He was getting tired of that familiarity that plagued him now and again with every move he made. It was like they were nearing a reset point in fate, and he was getting a flood of old information to recycle with every moment of every day. He sighed and slipped on the chain and ring without thinking, padding out of the room to the locked door across the hall. He tried the silver key and was rewarded with the sound of the door clicking open. He pushed it open and slipped in, kicking an errant piece of rubble into the doorway to keep it wedged open.

* * *

This was another bedroom, but where he'd expected the bedroom of the princess, he instead found the bedroom of a prince. Nothing pointed to a female presence again, though he recalled several rooms back to have seen a very feminine room. Muttering, he began to search again, eventually coming up with another key stashed in a small chest that was almost under the bed, similar to the one he'd found before, only made of bizarre black metal. Here and there, he found trinkets, including a Gerudo-esque armband that merged old Hylian motifs with ancient Gerudian ones, set with a ruby and inlaid with a shimmering streak of emerald that bisected the entire gold band. He also found several books, all filled with neat, spidery handwriting, all in Gerudian. He stowed them on a whim and began to leave, pausing to stare at an odd spot on the wall.

It looked like something – a sword? – had hung there. The imprint even resembled a very familiar blade. He traced the image, eyes narrowed.

Why would the Master Sword have been here?

* * *

Dark fumbled to free Farore's Voice from his tunic and quickly sang Zelda's Lullaby. When nothing happened, he repeated every song they'd learned, together and apart, and found himself with the same result. He stared at the fountain, scrabbling for an explanation.

"Um..." Mumbling, he wracked his brain, then lifted Farore's Voice again, letting his instincts take over.

The tune was nothing he could recall having heard recently; the song wasn't even really familiar. He was just singing, and as he did, he heard a vaguely familiar voice join him. The lyrics she sang were in another language – a version of Hylian, or so he thought. The full-bodied laugh of the Great Fairy cut him off, and he almost laughed aloud at the relief that coursed through his body.

"Oh! Your Highness, how-" she stopped, brow wrinkling. Dark stared up at her, dumbstruck not only by her mode of address for him, but by her appearance.

The other Great Fairies were identical; this one had hair in a variety of shades of red, a heavy gold hair piece that draped over her forehead, no boots, and bright green eyes. She lowered herself to the waters, standing on the tips of her toes, sending the slightest ripple across the fountain.

"Something puzzles you – I can see by your garb alone that time has passed, and you must have forgotten much."

"He has, alas; Difahn, welcome back to the world of the waking ones." Dark yelped and almost pulled his sword, before remembering abruptly that the Unem was not his enemy. He was nevertheless wary of him. He'd changed his form; his garb was similar to Sheik's, in black, silver, and gray, with the Hylian Crest in deep purple across his chest. His face was mostly obscured by a scarf across the lower half over his face, and the hood of his cloak also covered much of his features, but he was undoubtedly the Unem.

"Unem – thank you. What has happened to bring you from the shadows?"

"The wheel has been rewrought and reset. I believe the shadow searches for the key to his memories." The Great Fairy turned to him, eyes sad.

"I see. Then you come for memories. I sense you are disturbed by something – fear for another, someone close to you." Dark blinked slowly, jaw tightening.

"I-"

"So not seek to disprove me," she murmured, moving closer.

"I can see what you cannot. Give me your hand and follow your heart – and the voice of a god who seeks to make amends." Warmth suffused him, and Farore's Wind glowed a soft pink and pale blue before the lights swirled about and flashed; tiny emerald wings flanked a glowing Triforce at the base of the fluted crystal in the seconds that passed.

"Ah-"

" _Well, that's...new..."_ Dark started, looking around, and then at the item.

"Link?"

" _...D-Dark? Where-"_

"Second floor. Throne room – well, behind it, in a Fairy Fountain."

" _Then how am I hearing you?"_ Dark looked at the Difahn, who nodded to Farore's Voice.

"I blessed it to give you some other connection to the hero; you can call to him whenever, and he can hear you through Farore's Wind. Your Voice carries on his Wind, so to speak. As for the crypt..." She hesitated, visibly conflicted.

"I...would have you join the hero. Behind the third door at the end of the hall above us, a staircase leads to a tower. There, ancient maps of old Hyrule remain, protected by the king's magics. Go now..." She sighed mournfully and disappeared in silence, sending chills down Dark's spine. A wave of cold wind washed over him as the Unem disappeared in a blaze of white and black feathers that glowed from within, and whispers could be heard through the room.

 _My son...all hope is not lost. Do not forget us, but do not falter. Your path, though chosen by destiny and by our folly, is your own – do as you will, with honor and faith._ Dark blinked, ears ringing with the words.

_Do not forget us..._

* * *

Link pushed open the door, fingers curled around Farore's Wind.

"Dark? Dark?" No response. He wondered if he actually had to activate the gem to talk to him, but his natural curiosity overtook him in seconds. A spiral staircase brought him up through a tower to another door. This one was curiously untouched by age or whatever else had ravaged these ruins. Here and there he found evidence of war, of battle and conflict, scarring the otherwise pristine ruins. He splayed his fingers across the door, feeling strange. Soft voices whispered here and there, almost inaudible, and magic hummed through the air.

 _Entrance will be granted without the trappings of many powers._ Link raised an eyebrow at that; a warning, or a request? _Perhaps both_ , he thought, beginning to pull off the Golden Gauntlets Dark had given him. Bomb bag, wallet, old weapons from his childhood, Biggoron Sword, and other assorted items were deposited outside the door. He gingerly laid the bottles out in a row, on top of his folded Zora and Goron tunics. Beside these he left the Hover and Iron Boots, his bow, quiver, and Fairy granted spells, clustered together in a glistening triangle. He patted himself down one last time, and finally equipped only with his original Kokiri tunic and boots, Master Sword, and Hylian shield, again placed his hand on the door. Magic sparkled through his hand, and the door eased open quietly.

 _Welcome. Our challenge awaits. Steel yourself and begin._ Link rolled his eyes and unsheathed the Master Sword, eyes darting around the enormous circular room.

* * *

It looked far too large to exist in the narrow tower; Link imagined it flowed out and tapered in at the top, like a bulb, offering more space here and less on the platform above. Creaking brought his attention to the doors grinding open around him, revealing small cells and seven lithe, armoured fighters that reminded him a little of Iron Knuckles. Each one wore an armoured jacket, gauntlets, and sabatons that curled up at the tip, like the Gerudo thieves' slippers. Each bore twin swords not dissimilar to those wielded by those same thieves; however, the blades were heavier, thicker, but kept the scimitar curve, and the hilts were longer – a hand and a half instead of one handed, wielded more like two long rods as opposed to two swords. Four of the seven wielded these like the Gerudo; the remaining three wielded them like short, bladed staves.

The warriors surrounded him and froze, weapons at the ready. Their faces were covered first by a half mask, secondly by a veil, and they all wore hooded mantles. Each one wore a colour corresponding, Link assumed, with the elements; black, gold, copper, red, blue, and green. One wore silver etched with the Royal Crest in shimmering blue and purple. He jumped when all of them opened their mouths, barely visible through the shimmery veils, at once, and roared; their jaws distended, and he realised they each had rows of needle-like teeth, each tooth three inches long, the canines five inches. He swallowed hard, lifting his shield; the heavy swords whipped up, and the warriors snarled in unison.

"O...kay..." He let his eyes sweep across the room one more time, before he rolled his shoulders and lowered his shield. The warriors took the bait; all of them shot forward and were startled when he shot up. Taking a leaf from Dark's book, he levered himself up over them off the shoulder of the Forest fighter, kicking into its head and wincing at the wet crack that accompanied the impact. He landed and jerked his shield back up, expecting to only have to face six more fighters. To his instant horror, the Forest warrior cranked its head back into position, turning stiffly. As it did, he noticed the green, pulsing mass of flesh beneath the mantle and recoiled; was _that_ its weak point? He hesitated too long; the twin scimitars tore through a flimsy wood shelf behind him and the flat of the blade drove into his chest, slamming him into the wall. The second scimitar whistled through the air and bit into his collarbone, cutting deeply and breaking the bone in the same blow. He gasped and ripped away, stumbling back, one hand clutching the bleeding wound.

He hadn't expected that level of brutality, and not recognising the enemy had thrown him off guard – and he had paid for his slow response. Hissing oaths, he tore his tunic and hastily wrapped it, stumbling around the room as he did, stalked by the seven warriors as he went. He went for his bow, meaning to take them out from afar, and grasped only air.

 _Fuck_... Taking a deep breath, he stopped, eyes locking onto the foremost warrior. He had to get behind them – and he had to do it fast. He was losing blood at a phenomenal rate, and at this point, he had, at best, ten minutes – max. He worked the kinks out of his neck, leading the warriors into the center of the room, charging a spin attack as he went. The warriors proved his hunch right; they again surrounded him and prepared for a strike in unison. With a strained battle cry, he released the charge of magic and shot forward, stabbing the Shadow warrior in the stomach and hooking the Master Sword's blade under the metal plate jacket, levering pieces of the armour off, deflecting an attack from the Fire warrior with one of them in the same motion. There, surrounded by rotting, scaled flesh and thick, black bones, was a pulsating mass of glowing black flesh, pumping gold blood that spurted about in inconsistent gushes, spattering Link and the other warriors in like. Grimacing, he stabbed again and again, blocking out the sound of the creature's screeches.

A particularly vicious thrust cleared the creature's body; it howled and writhed on his blade, becoming first engulfed in light and then insubstantial, blowing away with a mournful cry. The armour, mask, mantle, and veils all dissolved into silver-blue fire, and he turned his attention to the others. Panting, he prepared another spin attack, gauging how long it would take to dispatch them all; if he did this right, and made no slip-ups, he'd be find, long enough to get outside and free a fairy.

He tore through the other six warriors, destroying five of them, but in the midst of destroying the Fire warrior, he found himself driven into the silver, Royal warrior – and into its swords. The scream that left him was inhuman, unrecognisable. He weakly drove the Master Sword back into the Fire warrior even as the Royal one pulled their swords from his body. Shaking, he fell to his knees, vision blurring and melting into shadows.

 _Here I am, stabbed in the abdomen – again._ He choked out a hysterical laugh, head falling back. His eyes locked onto an odd, shimmering circle of crystal above them, embedded in the ceiling. It seemed to swirl with stars. His laughs melted into sobs, and he let his head fall forward, pain dissolving into icy numbness.

"'M sorry Dark..." Something heated at his chest, and he started, warmth and pain suffusing his body all at once. He groped weakly at the chain around his neck, fingers scrabbling over the gold ring he'd picked up earlier.

 _Get...up..._ Power surged through him, and he felt his agony fade; the wounds sealed with a flash of pain, one after the other, and energy coursed through his veins. He heard the Royal warrior walking away and shot to his feet, scooping up the Master Sword and hurling it. The Blade of Evil's Bane buried itself to the hilt into the blazing silver mottled flesh; light, not blood, gushed from the wound, and at once, the warrior turned to him, the tip of the sword peeking through its chest. He met its eyes and froze; a swirling vortex of rainbow lights and hazy shadows rested in those cavities, and for a moment, he thought the creature nodded, before the light devoured it. He stared in awe as the sword drifted to the floor, settling with a soft chime.

Heartbeat thundering in his ears, he moved slowly to the sword, picking it up and peeling off his tunic, using the shredded green fabric to clean the sacred blade. Once it was of suitable condition, he sheathed it and inched forward, legs trembling. He passed through the central archway, following the dark spiral staircase up to an open platform covered like a gazebo at the top of the tower. A large stone tablet, etched with the phases of the moon and a thousand tiny constellations, took up the eastern side of the small platform, resting in a tilted frame.

The south and north had a telescope and a chest; he'd entered from the west. Stumbling forward, he pried the chest open, absently wondering why these were never locked. The chest yielded another map, but this one was covered in marks and was clearly archaic, even covered in notes in different languages. Beside it was another ring. He picked it up, eyes tracing the ring twinned to the one around his neck. Carding shaking fingers through his hair, he sat down hard, pain raking his body for a moment. With a sigh, he let his head fall back against the stone tablet, eyes fluttering closed. He'd have time to tell Dark what had happened...later...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I attempted to break this into more manageable chunks, but nothing seemed to work, so...


	3. So Be It

Dark was prepared to panic when he found all of Link's items outside of the tower room door; however, recognising that they'd been left out in an orderly manner, refrained. However, upon finally entering the room, that tamped down panic erupted through him when he saw the amount of blood splattered across the room. Snatching up Farore's Voice, he managed to rasp, "Link?"

" _Dark? I'm at the top of the tower...found a map...'m tired..."_ The shadow chuckled weakly.

"I'll be there in a moment. If you need me to, I can take Farore's Wind back to the entrance, come back, and warp us out."

" _Okay..."_ Dark snorted and terminated the connection, replacing Farore's Voice under his tunic and padding out of the room, picking up Farore's Wind and sending Link's things to the void before heading back downstairs. He felt the prickle of recognition now and again as he descended, trotting past the two doors on the first floor and casting Farore's Wind. The air took on a green tint and cool, fragrant winds whipped up from the stagnant air, engulfing him in a verdant cyclone of fresh air that smelled of blossoms and spring rain. A soft, shimmering chime hung in the air, and a brilliant green orb floated lightly over his head. He stared up at it, feeling undeniably mystified, as he always was when he found himself faced with the power of the Goddesses. Shaking his head at his own awe, he headed back up the stairs and rejoined Link.

"Here," he said, tossing Farore's Wind to the blonde. He caught it deftly despite his weariness, dragging himself to his feet.

"Be careful," Dark warned, steadying him when he stumbled as he rose.

"I'll get Epona and Strife; your things are in the Void. I'll bring them back when we get back to the crypt." Link nodded slowly, trembling some. Dark eyed him for a moment, then summoned a bottled fairy from the void, popping the cork and freeing the small creature, who instantly assessed Link's sad state and swirled around him, disappearing in a blast of pink sparkles. Link started, eyes widening a little at the wash of magic through his body.

"Ah!"

"Better?" Dark inquired, one eyebrow raised. Link wrinkled his nose and nodded, rubbing his eyes.

"I'll see you outside – I have one more thing I have to check." Link nodded dully and yawned, trudging out of the room and tossing the crystal into the air, catching it and repeating the toss as he went. Dark watched him disappear through the doors, wondering if he was actually going to cast the spell or not. Seconds later a flash of green light told him it was the former, and he set off himself, trotting down the stairs and toward the left most door on the ground floor. The rotted wood crumbled with a touch, and he strode through, entering a hall that was open to a courtyard – a small garden. Here he found what he'd been looking for; a battered stone bench, covered in bizarrely untouched wooden figurines. He crouched in front of it, eyes scanning the scene laid out before him. Gorons, Zoras, bizarre creatures he couldn't name but found familiar, horses, birds, and humans – humans of every race, all situated around a rough carved Triforce painted yellow. He picked it up, unsurprised by how light it was – it was clearly meant for a child. The sensation of familiarity darted through him again, but he had no time to dwell on it, remembering at once why he'd come here in the first place. Activating Farore's Voice, he called Link.

" _Dark?"_

"We need to hurry; map out a path while I deal with the horses and our things. Do you know where the entrance is?"

" _North of us; in the mountains, leading down into Kakariko's original graveyard, where..."_ He stopped.

" _Where the fire happened. We're going to be facing Redeads and Stalfos all over – we should stop at the Fairy of Courage's fountain before we go. It's out of the way, but-"_

"We can heal here, Link – there's a Fairy behind the throne room, remember? Don't worry, drink one of the bottles of milk and you'll feel well enough to come up the stairs."

" _I'll meet you there."_ The connection terminated itself, and Dark pocketed the wooden Triforce, turning and padding out to where the horses stood. A few moments were spent distributing bombs, bottles, arrows, and the like between them, while non-essentials (or seeming non-essentials) were stowed in sealed saddlebags on Epona, the better suited of the two for carrying anything. Strife was, essentially, a warhorse; a Gerudian warhorse and better suited to travel than Hylian warhorses, but nevertheless a warhorse, not meant for carrying anything other than the lightest of burdens along with his rider. He strapped the Master Sword's shadow to Strife as well, finally giving up on using it as his main weapon any longer; even Link had another sword, but he didn't try to use it more than the Master Sword, because he recognised what he was better suited to. He led both horses to the mouth of the canyon, tying them to a pair of convenient spires of rock on either side of the canyon.

"We'll only be a moment," he assured both horses, receiving a snort from Epona and an eyeroll from Strife.

"Nice to see you have so much faith in us," he replied wryly, patting them both on the shoulder before heading back up to the castle.

* * *

The Great Fairy watched the two heroes leave, eyes lowering to the runes etched around her fountain. They'd once said 'Fair Guardian of the Castle', which had meant 'Great Fairy of the Royals', essentially, but now it read 'O Ancient and Benevolent One'. Tears streamed down her face, silver facets of crystal that dissolved once they hit the water, spreading a shimmering rainbow sheen across the soft waves.

"All Father...Queen Mother, Lady Guardian, Glorious Warrior...Forgive me. The secrets of darkness are to be revealed, and all shall suffer for it..."

* * *

The canyon flared into a stony plain that rose into the mountain sharply after a few miles. Link eyed the slope dubiously.

"I think we should send Epona and Strife back."

"You think they'll be okay?" The blonde rolled his eyes, beginning to unsaddle the mare.

"Trust me, Dark – they'll be fine. I just don't want to risk breaking one of their legs on this mountain. We can walk – you went up Death Mountain, didn't you?" Dark shrugged, doing the same for Strife. The stallion lipped his collar, snorting.

"Hey – hey, chill. You heard Link. It's for your own good." The horse eyed him balefully, then tossed his head, butting against his chest, as if to say, 'You had better be telling the truth,'. Dark chuckled and ran his fingers through his mane, oblivious to the odd look Link was giving him.

"Go on, you two – head back to the ranch, and stay together." Epona snorted and tossed her head, trotting away the moment Link let her go. Strife followed at a more sedate pace, whinnying sharply when Epona got too far ahead. He shook his head at the two horses' antics and followed Link, who had the map stretched in front of him as he walked.

"This language isn't actually that hard to understand once you really look at it – it has the same roots as Hylian, and the alphabet is similar to Gerudian. Given that, this is-" He looked up, then back at the map.

"Mount Hylia. There's no lake on this map, but the rivers are all here. There _is_ a large space here that says...Gerudo Crater, and it's connected to Gerudo Valley. I think they must have diverted the waters into the crater to create Lake Hylia, and this mountain was stripped of its name to protect something. That would explain why it connects to the crypt." Dark raised an eyebrow at Link's explanation.

"Why, though?" Link shrugged, folding the map gingerly and stowing it in the belt pouch he'd once put Deku Seeds in for his slingshot.

"There's a path here, and a faded sign. So, Dark," he turned, eyes sparkling playfully.

"What have we learned about signs?" His shadow rolled his eyes.

"Always follow the signs." Link moved forward, eyes all but glowing with mischief.

"Link-" Dark's comment – or question – was cut off as Link pressed a soft, affection kiss to his mouth, pulling away to nuzzle his dark hair.

"I always knew you were smarter than you let on." Dark stared after the blonde who was currently scaling the mountain like he'd spent his entire life doing so (and he almost had...), scrabbling over the dull stones without a care for his own well being.

"Found the path again!" Dark rolled his eyes, beginning to follow, only to catch sight of something shimmering beneath a particularly large stone.

"Hey, Link?"

"Hmm?"

"Get further up the path for me," he requested, lighting a bomb and scrambling to catch up with the blonde. The explosion was oddly muffled, caught under an overhang of stone that kept it from unleashing the wrath of the mountain on the two lone men, obliterating several rocks in the area.

"What-"

"Just as I suspected." Dark leapt down and scooped up a particularly shiny, bright orange Rupee. Link stared at him, then facepalmed hard, muttering.

"Only you." Dark smirked and pocketed his prize, heading back up to the path, whistling the Song of Storms as he went.

* * *

The path wound through the mountain for only a few more miles before plunging into another canyon, this one natural-made as opposed to the man-made one leading to the old castle. It forked; they entered from the left fork, but the other fork led toward Zora's Domain.

"Think this is how they got the water to Lake Hylia?" Link asked, crouching to trace the marks in the stone. Dark stared down the canyon, arms folded.

"Probably..." This place offered none of the sharp memories the castle had, which led him to believe it was younger than the castle. He didn't even know how old he was, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was closer than ever to realising the truth behind his origins.

"Dark?" He started, meeting Link's eyes. The blonde had an odd expression on his face – one of bemusement and recognition.

"What is it?"

"Nothing...nothing..." The shadow raised an eyebrow at that, but didn't question it, heading down the path again, Link close behind him. They started to complain and joke, their laughter ringing off of the stone walls, pervading the dry air with their unguarded joy. The silent stone sentinel that was the mountain took their happiness in like an inhale of fresh air, but something brewed in the air, driving the heroes forward without their notice. They finally slowed to a halt to stare at an enormous, clearly man-made stone door bathed in the bloody light of the setting sun.

"Look's like there's – a door?" Link stopped, eyeing the stone slab with all the wariness of a hardened adventurer. Dark moved closer, tapping the stone once.

"Should I try singing – or you could try using the Ocarina?" Link blinked.

"I was actually going to bomb it," came the slightly sheepish reply, a pink blush suffusing Link's face under Dark's unblinking gaze.

"..." The blonde grinned weakly at him and fumbled the Ocarina from his pockets, preparing to play, when the memories hit them both at once.

_The sounds of battle rang through the mountains, though they were clearly happening many miles away – nearer the castle. Here, a group of refugees huddled, some clutching valuables to their chests, others standing with weapons around the noncombatants, eyes locked on the only entrance to their position. Finally, the sound of a horn cut through the cacophony ahead, and cheers filled the air. A woman with soft red hair looked up, gingerly cradling a child to her chest._

" _Is it over? Are they okay?" The woman at her side, a Gerudo by her darker skin tone, darker hair, and familiar hawkish nose, shook her head._

" _Just wait, Mara; they'll tell us-"_

" _Nanaro! Mara!" Both women looked up at once, and the rest of the group grew restless at the sound of hoofbeats. Two horses rounded the corner at high speeds, skidding in the gravel as one of the riders dismounted quickly, running up the path to them._

" _It's done – and the baby-"_

" _Is fine, my lord." The Gerudo took the babe and offered the small child to the man, who shook his head, smile growing._

" _No – no, not like this." He stared down at the slumbering form, blue eyes sparkling with happiness through the grime and blood covering his face._

Dark inhaled sharply as the memory retreated, hand still splayed across the stone that was now grating open, not unlike the Door of Time, to Link's eyes.

"W-what-" Link swallowed hard.

"Was that – who-" They stared at one another.

"Dark, you don't remember that, do you?" The shadow shook his head, jaw clenched.

"We're getting closer – can't you feel it?" Link stared at him, then at the open door.

"Closer to what?"

* * *

They entered together, but their minds were far from in unison. Link was no longer mulling on the memory that had all but ambushed them outside the tunnel; instead, he was comparing – uneasily, but nevertheless comparing – the mannerisms of his two lovers, lost and found. Dark and Ganondorf had some behaviours that were similar, and some that were identical. For instance, they both had a stoicism that made Link feel like a fool when faced with it. When deep in thought, their expressions were similar – almost mirrored one another.

Both would have vehemently denied it, of course, but they weren't exactly dissimilar. They each valued power, though Dark understood better the need for courage – likely a side-effect of being Link's shadow. Link had only heard Ganondorf laugh in true humor once, and in that too, they were alike, as Dark's voice was deeper than Link's, and rougher. He'd noticed especially that Dark and Ganondorf were almost exactly alike in their treatment of Strife – as if he was more than a tool, a faithful but otherwise of little value tool. That was a rarity – Ganondorf had avoided bonding due to his childhood, and had looked at his own people as commodities to be guarded, not humans to be cherished, raised and nurtured in the face of their harsh homeland.

Dark disliked people for their fickle natures and general cowardice, as he saw it. He refused to even consider that a person under the proper stresses could and would rise up to protect his fellow man – 'humanity doesn't value itself, no more than the Zoras or the Gorons', in his own words. He believed the races crippled by their inconsistent faith, looking to the gods when they had lost all hope but denying them attention when peace reigned.

But for all this, Link couldn't see Dark and Ganondorf as offshoots of each other, brothers in darkness in any form. No, for all his mysterious and likely ancient ways, Dark seemed to mimic Ganondorf in the same way a child sometimes mimicked their parents. It wasn't consistent, and it was only in some very specific fashions, but the fact remained. Link bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head. He was chasing a dying tangent, and they were getting further and further into the tunnel, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end and his palms to sweat.

"Hey...Dark?" His shadow slowed and looked over his shoulder.

"Hmm?" The hero moved to stand beside him, laying a hand on his arm.

"We're almost there – see? Light." Dark blinked and looked to where Link had indicated, squinting.

Sure enough, multicoloured lights could be seen, faintly, from further into the tunnel. Unnerved and exasperated, Dark moved forward, Link close behind.

* * *

They emerged above the chamber, stones etched with runes grinding forward to form stairs like those in the main tomb.

"Link, Dark!" Link's eyes brightened and he quickly jumped from the platform, running forward to meet Navi. The fairy twirled around his head and hands, their twin laughs loud in the solemn space. Dark felt his lips tip up in a relieved smile.

"Are you alright?" The fairy chimed and shook her wings, lightly scattering the area with dust.

"Perfectly intact if not a little irritated. But you're here, and that's all that matters! You know how to finish the ritual, right?" Dark froze, mind buzzing.

 _'Give us the truest desire of your heart, and time will right itself.'_ He swallowed hard, throat dry.

"Ah-"

"So you are returned to us, hero and hero's shadow. Ancient ones awakened and battled, you are no different than you once were." Link started and turned.

"What?" Dark felt the magic clench around his body and tried to jerk forward as a reflex; his body stiffened and he was petrified in an instant as the Sage of Light stepped free of its pedestal, unsheathing the stone sword.

"Come forward, hero, and offer your hand." Link stared at it, fingers grasping for the Master Sword. Now the Sage of Shadow spoke.

"Do not be hasty – we mean you no harm. A sacrifice of blood, no matter how small in quantity, is required. Step forward and offer your hand."

"Offer your hand." Dark's cry of objection was choked off by the magic binding him, as was Navi's. The blonde hero stared at the Sages, and then at his friends, expression first uncertain, then set. He moved forward and grasped the stone blade, eyes never leaving the Sage statue's. Light gathered around the blade, and it flashed to metal as the Sage pulled it from Link's hand, the edge biting deep into his palm as it was resheathed, returning to stone. Link swallowed an oath and stumbled forward, pushed by an unknown force. Cold washed over him as Dark was similarly thrust forward, standing on either side of the bowl with Navi above them.

"Yours is not the only sacrifice to be had. The world cannot be righted without loss. Do not seek to find the supposed wrong and right it. The gods of today and our god of yesterday have spoken, and blood has been spilled." Link's blood swirled in the water, and the Sages exhaled as one, voicing the Goddesses' names and finally-

"Unumbra. Blessed son and father, he knows now." Dark felt his eyes roll up in his head and the sensation of Link's bloody hand clutching his as he collapsed, Navi's startled cry ringing in his ears.

* * *

_Navi..._

_Navi, canst thou hear Us? Thy time is upon thee. Radiant Nayru, Din, and Farore call upon thee. Come to Us._

**Author's Note:**

> Remember, children, never apologize for cliffhangers unless you know your readers personally. Then you hide. -snorts-


End file.
